Blue Eyes Hidden Behind the Mask
by Lord-Namine
Summary: Basic 'Naruto is hidding behind a mask and isn't really a dobe' kind of story. Naruto endevours to prove to the villagers that he isn't the Kyuubi, that he is Uzumaki Naruto, future Hokage! However, can he bring himself to give up the mask he has hidden behind for so long? His 'family' and friends will ensure the village sees the Naruto they know exists underneath. First story!


Ummmm... Hi? Wow, OK I'm a little scared right now. I've been reading stuff on this site for a while now and well I've kept thinking to myself, "You should write one of these, it could be fun!" and I've had loads of ideas for things to write, for various titles, normally Naruto, Bleach and Kingdom Hearts, which are my faves ^^ And, of course, as with all things I write I've never really gotten started and if I have it never got anywhere, certainly not anything that I could actually put up on here anyway. But, school started again recently and, as what happens in those times that I have a free period and no want to do anything school related, I begin to write, specifically an outline for a story, nothing major, except I can't stop writing. The outline begins quite precise but then, the descriptions grow longer and the lines I want characters to say become whole convorsations. So the outline goes on for five or six pages, filled with backstory, convorsation and added sidenotes and then I say "Wait a minute, I actually want to write this!" So the next chance I get, I grab the laptop and open up a new document. Within three days I have this, crazy stuff. Anyway... I'll let you get on with reading since that's what you're obviously here to do.

Lord-Namine, out!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Naruto, sadly. As much as I would love to, he belongs to Kishimoto; however I do own a Garra plushie, does that count?

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

_ Empty. There was little else that could describe the barren wasteland surrounding him. The ground was cracked and broken earth, severely dehydrated, as if not even a drop of water had ever reached its dusty surface. However, strangely there was no sky, no hills, no mountains or change in the gradient of the land; simply the flat earth and a white expanse stretching into infinity. There was nothing. He was alone. He turned his head in a desperate attempt to find something, anything in this lonely existence. Wait, there! He could see them, they were some distance away from him, their backs towards him but he didn't care. If he ran to them he could surely get their attention. He set off at a sprint, his short stubby legs taking awkward and clumsy strides. He could tell he wasn't moving very fast, surely not the fastest he knew he could run but even as he tried to move his legs more quickly they kept the same pace. But almost as if they had heard his pleading mind they became closer though they themselves never moved. He stopped behind them to catch his breath, taking deep heavy gasps; had he really run so far? As he opened his mouth to call them, some of them began to turn. These were the faces he knew, smiling down at him. The laugh lines on the old man's face standing out beneath his pointed red and white hat, the same robes he always wore and that he would cling to as he sat on the man's lap surrounded in comfortable embrace. The grins of the two who he knew would always have a stool set aside for him and a warm bowl of noodles to cheer him up when he was down. The kind smile of the one who could see the true potential he had even if no one else could, the scar running across his nose crinkling slightly with the lift of his cheeks. The blank, white faces of those who had always hidden in the shadows, just out of his sight, but whom he knew would always be there to protect him when he needed it. And the other, shorter than the rest, though of course he was younger than the others; as always with that lazy gaze with the hint of a smirk showing his greater intelligence, hair pulled into a ponytail reminiscent of a pineapple; his brother, always with him and knew him better than most. He smiled brightly up at them, his precious people. What did it matter that the others kept their backs to him, what more did he need than the ones who stood before him?_

_ A cold chill flew suddenly down his spine; he spun around as if to search for its source. Finding nothing but the dark, black expanse behind him – _hadn't it been white? _– he turned back to the others, face lifting again. But as his eyes rose to meet theirs, instead of the soft kindness that had filled their gazes before, he saw only cold harsh glares. His eyes widened at the intensity of the ice held within their dark eyes. What is this? Why are they -?_

"_Demon." His eyes shot to the boy who whispered the word with such hate; he could see nothing but despite in his eyes. _

"_Monster," the old man and his daughter this time, word spat out like poison. As though a floodgate was opened, they all began to whisper, getting increasingly louder;_

_ "Murderer."_

_ "Devil."_

_ "Killer."_

_ "Slaughterer!"_

_ "Beast!"_

_ The words began to slur together, the intensity ever rising. He covered his ears against the noise but it did nothing to muffle the shouts, if anything they became even louder, ringing in his head. He could no longer understand the words they screamed at him. He watched in terrified horror as the hateful faces morphed and twisted before into unrecognisable monsters, with large ripping jaws, sharp claws and coal black eyes that burned with hatred and disgust. He was soon surrounded by the giant creatures, the people who's backs had once been turned had shown the same hideous, ghoulish faces that his precious people – _what precious people? –_ had become. They towered over his small, frightened form; he could feel himself shrinking away from the eyes, the glares and the high keen in his ears that was once the slight whispers. Suddenly, two words sliced through the din, despite being spoken in a level tone, but he felt as though they had pierced straight through his heart;_

_ "Kill it."_

_ It became a chant, one that every voice took up, the occasional voice shouting, "Kill the demon!" Their claws grabbed at his clothes, his skin, his flesh, tearing each open with ease._ Kill_ Tears pooled from his eyes as he screamed in anguished pain,_ Kill it _the salt water mixing with the deep red of the blood running down his scarred cheek _Kill it _and stinging the open wound on his neck ._Kill_ He felt his arm break painfully, _Kill_ his knee dislocate, _Kill_ his ribs crush and the strong _Kill _hand that held _Kill_ his neck squeezing _Kill_ the air _Kill _out of him_ Kill _routing his windpipe_ Kill_ so that_ Kill_ he couldn't_ Kill _draw_ Kill _breath _KILL!

"DIE KYUUBI!"

_"Nooooooo!" He screamed out, his fear and grief overwhelming him –_ I am not a demon! –_ he thrashed in the hold of his captors. The pain was too much _– I'm not a monster! – _his body was on fire. He could feel the claws and fangs dig deeper as he struggled but it did not deter him _– I'm not a murderer! _The fire within him burned ever greater and hotter_ – I don't want to die – _his stomach became as a raging inferno, the flames blazing as if to burst free of his body and attack those that held him. _Yes they are the ones – _the voice whispered to him, a deep rumbling that he could barely understand_ – they are the monsters, the demons; it is them, they are the ones that deserve to die_ – Yes they were the ones, he didn't deserve this, they did. _Kill _Rage pooled within his belly;_ Kill_ without thought he allowed it to bubble _Kill_ dark and malevolent_ Kill_ covering his body in a searing coat_ Kill. _He ignored the burning feeling_ Kill _on his torn skin, _Kill _it barely registered_ Kill._ His slit eyes narrowed _Kill_ the blood red irises_ Kill _trained on the ones _Kill_ that had held onto him_ Kill_ moments before his bubbling cloak_ Kill_ burned their hands_ Kill. _His tail twitched _Kill_ in anticipation,_ Kill_ they deserved this_ Kill _not him_ Kill _he could almost taste_ Kill _the fear _Kill _and the hatred_ Kill_ how much he wanted to_ KILL_ tear their rotten flesh_ KILL _as they _KILL_ had torn at his _KILL!

_He stilled, as did they. Then his face broke into a dark grin, showing his long fangs, his crimson eyes shining with mirth. He growled low in throat, and with blood flowing freely from him, red bubbling cloak roaring from him, he leapt, eyes crazed and claws sharp to land deep in the vulnerable unforgiving flesh of the -_

Sapphire eyes flew open, but he didn't move. He could feel the layer of cold sweat coating his skin, the rapid beating of his heart as the last of the images faded from his mind's eye. Letting out a tired sigh he rose from his position lying on the small bed and ran a hand through his damp blond spikes. Taking a few deep breathes to calm his rattled nerves he turned his eyes out of the window under which his bed lay. The sky was still dark, the moon's position suggesting there was no less than an hour before dawn, the buildings below silent and peaceful as the people quietly slept in their warm beds with their families near and comforting, happy in their lives with those they loved around them, clueless as to the fact they lived so close to an evil and monstrous de-

"No!" he slapped his cheeks to banish the thought, "Stop it, it was just a dream. Get a hold of yourself! I don't hate them, and I would never harm them, that's not me, it's not." He rubbed his temples with eyes closed in an attempt to erase the insane red orbs and the blood surrounding them, his own face hidden beneath from his mind. It was useless however, in the blackness behind his eyelids he saw only red, in the silence of the night he heard only the continued taunts and screams of those he –

He took one more shuddering gasp, and clasped his hands together to hide the trembling, if only from himself. His eyes once more open, he scanned the cluttered room, filled with scrolls, ink wells and brushes, his clothes strewn about the floor and the nearby cabinet along with various stuffed animals and spare weapons, posters plastered on the walls; a small area set aside that contained a number of photos, books thrown haphazardly into a bookcase. The only surface that looked vaguely more organised and considerably less cluttered was the bedside cabinet, containing only a simple digital alarm, showing it to be 04:17, a pair of green goggles resting beside it, and a very battered book. Small, it looked well loved, as though it had been read hundreds of times, with a simple brown cover containing the title, slightly faded: "The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi". His eyes soon travelled to the door leading to the rest of his small apartment. By the doorframe lay a large black case which, going by its shape, contained a guitar; and in front of this case sat a number of large cans, filled to the brim with bright, colourful paint. He stared at the containers for a moment, face blank, before the hint of a smirk lit in his ocean blue eyes and in the tilt of his lips. Looks like it's time for another one of Uzumaki Naruto's amazing pranks. And this one is sure to be 'monumental'.

* * *

The morning sun had crested over the forest tree line and was quickly reaching its highest point in the cloudless sky, basking the village of Konahagakure in its bright warm glow. The birds sang overhead as the villagers went about their morning routines, the streets bustling with the early rush of shoppers and traders, young children with their mothers, laughing and playing at the local parks, the elderly taking leisurely strolls through the streets, the occasional ninja leaping across the rooftops leaving on or returning a mission, a common sight and unworthy of a second glance. It was to these amiable sounds that one Sarutobi Hiruzen, Professor and God of Shinobi, as well as Sandaime Hokage, the strongest ninja in the village and its leader, sat in a room close to his office in the tallest building in the village, the Hokage Tower, the centre of all things relating to the running of the village, both its ninja and its civilian population. He was currently taking a break from his *shudder* _paperwork_, the bane of all Kage to relax with some calligraphy, a personal hobby of his. However he couldn't help but feel that this was the calm before the storm, there was something in the horizon and wasn't entirely convinced that it wouldn't have something to do with a certain orange-wearing blond that he knew. He loved the boy like a grandson but sometimes, he was far too much like his mother for his own good. He shook his head of his thoughts and proceeded to lay his brush back to the page before him, carefully dragging it in the exact right way to create the perfect kanji, moving fluidly from one character to the ne-

"PEOPLE OF KONOHA!" came the exceeding loud and obnoxious voice that could only belong to one person. Hiruzen groaned, glaring at his now ruined piece, a large splotch where the brush had twitched in his hand, "What has that boy done now?" he sighed, a resigned tone in his voice.

"I, UZUMAKI NARUTO PRESENT TO YOU ALL, MY LATEST MASTERPIECE!" The declaration was followed by a release of chakra, which slightly confused the old Hokage, before he heard the expected gasps and cries of the people of the village, indignation and outrage lining their shouts. Hiruzen took an irritated puff from his pipe, "Damn it, whatever he's done I can tell my day is going to be filled with complaints and extra paperwork... you owe me for this Naruto!" Sure enough two chuunin burst through the doors moments later, enraged and almost frothing from the mouth, were they Inuzukas? Sarutobi didn't think so but whatever.

"Hokage-sama!" shouted one,

"Yes, what is it? Some new outrage by Naruto I presume?" even though it was pretty obvious he felt the need to clarify.

"That young devil has graffiti-ed the Monument of the great Hokages – your honoured predecessors," the first shinobi called out

"In paint!" shouted the second, disgust heavy in his voice. Hiruzen could quite clearly hear the muffled giggles of the ANBU that were hidden in the shadows of the room, meaning that whatever he saw when he got outside, Hiruzen was going to be impressed. Taking a final puff from his pipe he stood from the cushion he had been seated on and placed the Hokage hat on his balding head. Fixing his formal robes he walked calmly to the door, the two chuunin following quietly behind him as he walked through the halls to reach the roof. As he walked he couldn't help but feel slightly worried for the boy causing the current uproar, he knew perfectly well that the boy was lonely in his existence and hid his true self from others in an attempt to survive the harsh world in which he was forced to live. Hiruzen's eyes turned sad as he thought of how much he had seen the boy grow through the years, from a tiny infant, to the strong and capable young man he was today. The only remaining problem was trust; he didn't give it lightly, which clearly showed in the few who could say they have gained that trust. He hid behind his false grins and loud voice as well as his god-awful orange eyesore that was his outfit, only showing his true face to those he trusted completely. The only thing that he allowed to show through of his true personality was his love of pranks. None were ever malicious and almost never caused any significant damage; if they did it was normally through the unpredictable reactions of the victims. However there was a general rule that was known to those who knew the boy well: if the prank involved bright coloured paint, there was reason to worry for the boy's mental state. The bigger they were, the more likely there was something serious bothering the boy, causing him to lash out in a way that wouldn't harm anyone but would certainly make them see him, a desperate, most likely subconscious, attempt to force people to look beneath the grin and boisterous laughter and see the child beneath, close to breaking. And this prank seemingly covered the entirety of the Hokage Monument... it's going to be a long week.

'I have to hand it to him, it is quite a masterpiece,' thought the Sandaime. He had reached the roof of the Tower moments ago and, along with the many chuunin that stood ahead of him (as well as the tactically hidden ANBU, who he could swear were still laughing) were gazing at the once respectable looking faces of the current and previous Hokages. Naruto had quite the talent as an artist, though he would thoroughly deny it if mentioned to his face; the four faces of the leaders and most respected shinobi of the village, without the new paint job, were stoic visages carved into the rock, the colour of stone. Now however their hair, eyes and even skin had been painted in rather outrageous colours and their blank faces had been changed to sport various humorous expressions. Senju Hashirama, one of the founders of Konoha and its Shodai Hokage, instead of his dark hair and eyes with tan skin as Hiruzen remembered him, now had forest green hair with purple skin and yellow eyes. His eyes were rather loopy looking pointing un opposite directions with his tongue hanging out of his open mouth making him look like he had been hit in the head one too many times. Senju Tobirama, Hashirama's younger brother and successor to the Hokage title, had the white hair that he had been known for in his life, however coupled with the deep midnight blue colour of his skin (the red markings on his cheeks and chin had been painted in) and the bleary, dazed look in his orange, as opposed to red, eyes, made it seem as if he had either frozen to death or had been woken from sleep with a bucket of ice water. There was even a trail of saliva running from the corner of his mouth, and considering how punctual and alert Hiruzen's former teacher had been at all times, it certainly didn't become him. When the Hokage's gaze turned to his own face, he felt a violent twitch appear above his left eye. That's why all the ANBU were laughing their asses off; he had been given bright green skin with red hair, instead of the dark brown hair he had had when he first took office, and his regular black eyes. But upon his cheeks he could see what was a rather heavy blush and his mouth had been turned into a lecherous grin with a leering gaze in his eyes. Damn it, he was not a pervert, it's not his fault that his student happens to be a very good author, he's the man's teacher, he's obligated morally to take interest in his accomplishments! Damn that Naruto! Sarutobi's successor, Yondaime Hokage and saviour of the village, had an at least somewhat normal expression. A wide foxy grin, not dissimilar to the true grin of someone who knew he had pulled off an amazing prank *hint, hint*. His eyes were the same cerulean blue that burned with determination and hidden amusement that the man had in life, which he had subsequently passed on to one particular person. But instead of the golden yellow colour being on his hair, it was instead his skin, while his hair had been painted a bright fuchsia pink. Totally ruined the grin and made it seem more crazy than amused. It had been signed too, below the Yondaime's yellow face was written in red black letters UNN WAS HERE! – no mistaking who that was at all. Of course the other giveaway was the boy himself, grinning like a madman atop the monument arms crossed and chest puffed out proudly. No paint had gotten on him at all surprisingly; he was wearing his regular orange jumpsuit, jacket tied and knotted at his waist showing the black short-sleeved shirt he wore beneath. His unruly hair was somewhat tamed by the pair of goggles that adorned his forehead, probably as a substitute until he received his hitai-ate, at least that's what people tended to believe. Naruto seemed to be relishing in the loud insults and shouts against him, enjoying the attention, but even from here, Hiruzen could see the slight tension in his shoulders and the tremble in his left leg as he stood stiffly.

"Enough of the stupid pranks!" shouted one chuunin in front to Hiruzen, waving a fist at Naruto. They had yet to notice that the Hokage was standing behind them,

"We're sick of it! Grow the heck up!" exclaimed another one. How on earth did these guys make chuunin? Didn't ninja pride themselves in being able see 'underneath the underneath'?

"You are dead when they catch you! You know that?" OK now it was time for him to step in. He walked brusquely forward, easily parting the crowd as they saw him approach, coming to stand at the railing and looked straight up to Naruto. The boy was looking right back at him, grin still on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. Those blue eyes that normally held a bright light in them were instead dull and haunted; filled with hidden fear and sorrow. That was definitely not good. Suddenly, someone stepped up beside the Hokage and placed a foot on the railing, "Hokage-sama," said the person, "I can't apologise enough."

"Oh! Is that you, Iruka?" Indeed Sarutobi saw that it was one Umino Iruka that stood beside him, a stern expression on his scarred face. The man was one of the more capable chuunin in the village and was currently employed as one of the teachers at the academy, more specifically Naruto's class teacher. Hiruzen watched as Iruka drew a deep breath before shouting so loud that the old man was sure he'd go deaf in one ear, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU IDIOT? GET DOWN FROM THERE AND GET BACK TO CLASS!" To this, the blond immediately began to flail as though he just realised the deep trouble he was in for skipping class to do this stunt. The Hokage sighed exasperatedly, knowing this to be an act; he really was too old for this job. He gave a final look to the young man, so burdened and yet so unwilling to let anyone see it. His eyes were filled with guilt and concern, wishing he could have done more for the boy than he had, damn the council for making him little more than a figurehead, and not the leader he should be; for forcing the child to be left for the dogs. He barely held any power anymore; he spent more time signing papers than actually leading his people. He knew the boy didn't blame him for his lot in life, no matter if he had a hand in it or not, but it didn't ease the heaviness he held in his heart every time he saw the fake grin on the boy's face or a loud and obnoxious shout, so unlike his true self. As he saw his surrogate grandson tightly bound with some rope and dragged off by Iruka, back towards the academy, he pleaded silently, 'Minato, Naruto, how I have failed you both. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but please, please allow me the time to try to make some of that injustice up to you, so that you may grow strong and succeed in everything you do. I will help you become Hokage, Naruto, and soon everyone will see the great man I see when I look into your eyes, where the Will of Fire burns brighter than in anyone else.'

* * *

Aaaannnd done! Whew, that was a lot of work, jeez!

OK, so that was the first chapter, um I probably will keep writing this for a while, but be warned I am a highly unmotivated person. Also I have a lot of important exams this year, like "What happens here, will seal your fate, if you mess this up you're doomed to fail in life" kind of important so I may have to hold off in things like this until that blows over. If I can write something then I promise to upload it but I can't guarantee the length of time it will continue or that there will be regular updates. This was kind of a spur of the moment post really.

However, I would love to hear some criticism, good or bad I don't mind. However if you're just going to take the piss, then you can just buggar off 'cause I'm gonna ignore you. I'm always willing to learn how I can improve my writing, and this is the first time I've worked up the courage to actually show someone my work, it might be because I know you won't see my face as I blush madly in embarrasment at whatever you say, no offence. But I would appreciate it greatly if you could give me some advice in how I could better my skills, thanks! X)

Lord-Namine, out!


End file.
